


1,573 minutes

by Katzenkinder



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Family Fluff, Hand Jobs, Lucas is absolutely smitten, M/M, Medication side effects, Mild Language, Romantic Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, boyfriend meets boyfriend's parent for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenkinder/pseuds/Katzenkinder
Summary: Eliott has 1,573 minutes to make up to Lucas
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 8
Kudos: 190





	1. 19h45

The party isn’t slowing down. No one cares the park is steadily growing darker and quieter as the celebration continues well into the evening. Lucas relaxes against a tree, happy to just sit back and watch with Eliott tucked between his legs. Beer and weed makes his head swim and his thoughts bubble up to the surface sluggishly. 

He’s happy. No, what he feels is more than just your standard run-of-the-mill happiness. It feels like the ugly, angry storm that raged inside him for weeks has finally come to an end and in the aftermath he feels unadulterated contentment. He just holds onto Eliott and savor this quiet moment together in the fading light of the evening.

At first the two of them stayed in the thick of things but as the party went on and on Eliott drew quieter. Lucas noticed the subtle change-a part of him had actually been anticipating it-and maneuvered them to a quieter spot on the pretext all the noise had given him a headache. Now Eliott is curled against Lucas’ chest with his hooded eyes fixed on the calm surface of the pond. He doesn’t know how Eliott managed to contort himself into that position but he must be comfortable because he only moves to send the occasional text or steal a sip of Lucas' beer.

“Hey,” Lucas eventually murmurs into Eloitt’s messy hair. He tilts his head back so he can look up at Lucas. It’s nearly dark now but Lucas can still make out how pale he is, how sunken his eyes are. Guilt eats at him. Did Eliott stay because of him? Lucas gently kisses his forehead because he can and immediately wishes to do it again. So he does. “Wanna head out?”

The corners of Eliott’s mouth perk up. “Let’s go.”

They struggle to their feet with groans - how long had they been sitting there anyway? - and rejoin the party long enough to say their goodbyes. Basile’s so wasted he throws himself on Lucas when he breaks the news they’re heading out and has to be dragged off by Yann.

“Calm down, bro,” Yann says, keeping Basile anchored to his side as a precaution. 

Basile looks from Lucas to Yann, flabbergasted that they are even entertaining the idea of leaving and that Yann is letting them go. “What? You’re ok with them leaving? It’s a party! They need to stay and party with us!”

“Hey, Baz, Daphne’s over there,” he cuts in quickly. “I think she’s looking for you.”

Basile’s face lights up. Lucas and Eliott are immediately forgotten now his attention is focused on the girl he’s been pinning over for months. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“There!”

He cranes his neck, squinting in the general direction his friend is pointing to. It's true there is a group of girls over there but none of them are Daphne. Lucas sneaks a sideways glance at Eliott and they share a smile. God bless, Yann.

“Uh...where?”

“Dude, right over there. See? She’s waving for you.”

“Oh, I see her! I see her! I’m coming, my darling!”

Lucas mouths _‘thank you’_ to Yann before making a break for it. It’s not until they’re out on the street he realizes he has no idea where to go. Going back to his apartment is out of the question. Friday nights are always loud there. Plus there wouldn’t be any privacy.

Lucas scrambles for an alternative get-away but is stopped mid-thought when Eliott drags him close to his side. Lucas feels a wide smile spread across his face. If he were a cartoon his eyes would have changed into throbbing hearts by now. The weight of Eliott's arm around his shoulders makes him feel both wonderfully warm and (dare he say it) small. His height is his least favorite thing about himself, but with Eliott he doesn’t mind it much.

“This way,” Eliott says into his ear. Lucas loves the sounds of his voice-so soft and gentle- and lets him take the lead.

They take their time wandering the city, enjoying the atmosphere the soft, goldenlights illuminating the shops and open air cafes create. Their hips bump together as they walk. Lucas has his arm wrapped around Eliott's waist, his fingers tucked into a belt loop, and his other one is clamped onto Eliott’s that dangling over his shoulder. Even after spending a week sharing a bed, clothes, and meals, it's unbelievable how close he still craves to be with Eliott. Will there ever come a time when he doesn’t feel such overwhelming want?

And it feels _good_. 

It feels good, and right, and natural to be with Eliott. 

Why had he fought so long and so hard with his feelings when it was so obvious they belonged together? Lucas and Eliott. Eliott and Lucas. It just makes sense. Perfect all-the-planets-aligned kind of sense. 

Eventually the unfamiliar area fades into something recognizable the closer they get to Eliott’s apartment. Lucas isn’t expecting anyone else to be there. Naive, right? The smell of food lingering in the entryway catches Lucas off guard and Eliott chuckles, his eyes mischievous crescents. 

“Don’t worry. I’m not being robbed,” he says, throwing off his jacket and then helping Lucas out of his own because he's too stunned to move. “It’s just my papa”

“You’re papa,” Lucas repeats dryly. 

“Well, yeah,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Maman's out of town so it's just him.” He ditches their jackets and pulls Lucas down the hall. He trips as he tries to keep up. His brain can’t tell his feet to move fast enough because it’s too busy freaking out. “He really wants to meet you.”

_Oh, fuck, I’m going to met his dad and I smell like beer and pot._

Lucas can’t see a way out of this without hurting Eliott’s feelings so he lets himself be corralled into the small kitchen, not expecting to make a great first impression.

 _When this is over I’m going to kill Eliott_. 

There's a tall, slim man standing at the counter, dressed in jeans and a white shirt, with his back to the doorway. Lucas hears the sound of a knife hitting a cutting board in slow methodical taps. He’s humming to music playing softly in the background, totally unaware that he suddenly has company.

“Papa,” Eliott announced quietly, “I’m back.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. 20h30

“Papa, this is Lucas." Of course Eliott is adorably excited. Lucas wishes he could feel half as positive because right now he feels more like a stray cat caught in headlights rather than a kid meeting his boyfriend’s dad for the first time. “Lucas, this my papa.”

“ _ Bonsoir _ , Lucas. I’m Oscar. It’s so good to finally meet you!” He pumps Lucas’ hand enthusiastically with both of his. His entire demeanor is remarkably warm-the kind that makes an entire room take a big sigh of relief-and Lucas actually feels himself physically relax. 

“Yeah...uh...'' While he didn’t expect Eliott’s dad to have tattoos peeking out from under his rolled up shirt sleeves or pierced ears, he’s not surprised either. “Enchanté.”

“I hope you’re hungry,” Oscar says, bouncing a little on the balls of his bare feet. Aside from the graying beard and glasses, father and son are practically identical. Even their energy is the same. “When Eli texted he was bringing you over, I threw a meal together for us."

_ Oh my god _ . Lucas doesn’t let his polite expression slip even though the unexpected nickname weakens his knees a bit.  _ Eli _ . 

“Yeah, yeah I am,” he murmurs absentmindedly before rediscovering his manners. “Thank you.”

There’s a little bit of everything on the table and thankfully it all looks edible. Lucas doesn't think he will ever forgive or forget Eliott's cinnamon and fennel disaster. The thought of it still has the power to make him gag. Oscar ushers them toward the table before he squeezes in a plate of freshly sliced bread between the salad and the prosciutto, adding the final touch to the mouthwatering chaos. 

“Looks good, papa, thanks,” Eliott says, serving Lucas with gusto. He’s starving since his classmates could only afford junk food for the party but he'd probably puke if he ate everything Eliott was shoveling onto his plate.

“Wait a sec! That's too much!” 

"Yeah, save some for your papa.”

“Of course, of course,” he says warmly and turns his attention to his dad's empty plate. “Have you heard from maman?”

“About an hour ago,” Oscar says as he offers them glasses of wine. “She sends her love of course.” 

Eliott beams. He looks like an excited schoolboy who’s been praised by his favorite teacher and Lucas can't stop himself from smiling. God, he's so cute. 

“So she got to Nantes, ok?”

“Yeah. Did you tell her what you want her to bring back?”

Eliott purses his lips, eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“Better make up your mind or you’ll end up with another postcard,” Oscar chuckles.

“What if I like postcards?”

It doesn’t matter Lucas doesn’t have a clue what’s going on because he’s enjoying the back-and-forth banter between the pair. It’s put on hold when when Oscar raises his glass in a casual toast. They follow suit. 

"To meeting new people," he says and makes a point of looking directly at Lucas.

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, smiling shyly.

They linger in the kitchen well after dinner is over, too comfortable to move. Smoke from Eliott and Oscar's cigarettes hangs in the air and creates a carefree, intimate bubble around the trio as they shoot the breeze. Oscar is loud and easy-going, and the change his presence brings about in his son is mesmerizing. Eliott’s smile comes easier and his eyes glow. He laughs and jokes and Lucas can only sit back and look, and look, and look at him. He knows he’s grinning like a moron but it's impossible not to. Eliott’s like a phoenix, brilliant and captivating within the safety of his home, and Lucas’ heart feels like its bursting at the seams.

This is fun, Lucas decides. Really fun. This isn’t the evening he expected but he’s enjoying himself nonetheless.

It’s towards the end of the second bottle of wine when Oscar puts an end to their evening. “That’s enough, Eli,” he says, tugging the bottle away from Eliott who had been all too happy to be their maître d' for the evening.

The warm haze in Lucas’ brain evaporates. His stomach tighten with dread. The memory of the unpleasant evening with Lucille surfaces. Will he once again have to sit and watch Eliott shut down completely? 

“This is our last bottle," Oscar continues, helping himself to the rest of the wine.

“You shouldn’t lie in front of my boyfriend.”

“Ok, my apologies. This is our last bottle of the cheap shit.”

Eliott's eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Papa! Seriously?” 

Lucas chuckles into his palm. It’s so easy to be entertained by the pair. Is this how ordinary fathers and sons behave? He can’t even begin to imagine how different life would be if he and his dad shared the same easy going relationship. 

“Did you think I’d waste the good stuff on you? Sorry, Lucas, no hard feelings.” He winks at Lucas. 

“None taken.”

“Fine, whatever. Finish your glass of cheap shit and we’ll clean up.”

Oscar waves his hand dismissively. “Leave it. You know I hate the way you clean. It’s so half-assed.”

Eliott collects their plates anyway, pausing on his way to the sink to kiss the top of his dad's head like it's nothing. He doesn’t bother returning to his seat but hovers behind Lucas, slowly kneading his shoulders. 

Oscar glances up as he lights another cigarette. "Going to bed?”

Eliott shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I guess I ought to say don’t stay up too late.”

“I guess I ought to say we won’t.”

That's their queue to leave. Lucas feels a little guilty about the mess their leaving behind but if neither of them cared then he decides won't either. He assumes Eliott will take them to the front room to chill and listen to music like before. Instead he’s led further inside the apartment until they reach a door with the doodle of a familiar racoon and, lo and behold, half a dozen postcards stuck to the wood panel. 

"Don't mind the mess," Eliott pleads quietly as he opens the door. Lucas shakes his head as if telling Eliott he won’t care at all. By now he ought to know Lucas is not exactly the tidiest of people.

The room on the other side is a mess-a huge chaotic mess-but it's a complete and utter peek into Eliott's world and Lucas loves every square inch of it.

Pictures plaster the walls. Some were clearly Eliott’s creations while others revealed his other passions - music posters, concert flyers, edgy exhibitions notices. Notebooks, sheets of paper, and cups crammed with paintbrushes and pencils litter every available space. An aisle stands next to the sole window, holding a half painted canvas. It’s not complete but Lucas can tell Eliott's been drawing him and for a moment it’s hard to breathe. Then he notices the bed on the floor covered in wrinkled sheets as if placed there as a second thought. 

The door clicks softly behind Lucas. His stomach flips. He turns around, drinking up the sight of Eliott long, lean form slouching against the door, his eyes half hooded and dark, ankles crossed. Queue the heart eyes again because he's never, ever going to get used to how hot Eliott is.

“What do you think?”

Lucas has lots of thoughts. First and foremost he’s thinking about how much he’d love to sink onto his knees in front of his boyfriend but Eliott doesn’t look like he meant anything suggestive and tries to quell his thoughts.

“...about?”

Eliott nods towards the kitchen. “My papa.”

“I like him,” he blurts out. He's not saying this just to be nice. He doesn’t know how to put it into words exactly but he hopes Eliott realises how lucky he is to have a man like Oscar for a dad. Most fathers Lucas’ experience are complete assholes. “He seems like a really great guy.”

Eliott beams. “Yeah, he is.”

“So’s his son,” Lucas teases, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s waist. It feels like an eternity has passed since they last touched and he’s craving Eliott like a man in the desert craves water. He leans in and hides his face in the crook of Eliott’s neck. It's quickly become his favorite place in the world. “Your dad won’t care if I…”

“Stay the night? No.” Lucas can feel the rumble of Eliott’s voice reverberate through his chest and, god, he loves it. 

“Good.” He tilts his head back to signal he wants to be kissed. Eliott gets the hint and bends down to press their lips together. It was a slow, drowsy kiss - the kind shared in the early light of dawn or in the midst of a quiet night like this one.

“I love you, Eli.”

Eliott kisses the tip of Lucas’ nose with smiling lips. “Me too, Lulu.”

_ Touché _ .

Though it feels nice to touch each other again, it’d be even nicer to do so in the comfort of Eliott’s bed so they toe off their shoes and socks and shyly shimmy out of their jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and crawl under the blankets. Eliott wastes no time snuggling into Lucas’ chest. Sex with Eliott is fucking amazing, but Lucas coverts these precious moments in between when they can just be as soft and gentle as they want to be with eavh other. Moments pass into minutes in perfect silence as the two slowly sink into a late night stupor before Eliott swears under his breath and reluctantly drags himself up.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas already misses the weight of Eliott against his chest.

“I need to take my medicine,” Eliott grumbles, throwing the blanket off himself.

"Don’t move. I’ll get it. Where do you keep it?”

“On the bathroom sink. Next door over on the right.”

Lucas rolls out of bed and quietly pads down the hallway to the bathroom, praying he doesn’t get caught. Finding the medicine bottle is easy enough. He fills the cup next to it with water and returns to the bedroom, inexplicably glad Eliott feels comfortable let him to this.

“Here,” Lucas says, passing both the bottle and the cup to Eliott’s outstretched hands. He slides under the blanket again, pretending to be more interested in fluffing his pillow than Eliott popping a pill in his mouth. 

A thought occurs to him out of the blue and the words spill out. “It’ll be ok to take it even though you’ve been drinking, right?” He backtracks as quickly as he can, afraid he sounded judgmental. “I mean I’m not telling you not to drink. It’s just I made the mistake of taking medicine after I'd been drinking once and was sick for the rest of the night. You know what, just forget it. You don’t have to answer. It's none of my business."

"It’s ok,” Eliott says, leaning over the edge of the bed to place both cup and bottle on the floor. “Technically I’m not supposed to drink when I take my medicine, but I didn’t drink very much.” He reaches over and cups Lucas’ face gently. “Don’t worry, Lucas.”

They settle down in unison. Eliott yawns big and rubs his eyes. He reminds Lucas of a little kid which makes him smile. 

“I’m so fucking tired.”

“Then go to bed.” 

“You don't mind? I’ve done nothing but sleep all week.”

Lucas palms Eliott’s cheek, his thumb smoothing over the high ridge of his cheekbone. “I don’t mind.”

Eliott snuggles closer. After a few quiet moments his weight gets heavier and his breathing deepens as it evens out. Lucas kisses the top of his head, burying his nose in the disheveled hair. He’s not particularly sleepy but cuddling Eliott seems like the perfect way to spend his night.


	3. 01h20

Lucas scrolls mindlessly through Instagram, willing his boner out of existence by sheer force. It’s a losing battle. He’s so amped up nothing on social media is going to make him forget how fucking horny he is.

Fuck his teenage libido.

The reason for his nocturnal problem sleeps next to him. Lucas woke up hot and miserable because his boyfriend decided he’s his personal teddy bear. Turns out his tall, gorgeous as hell boyfriend is a sucker for cuddling. Who would’ve thought? Any other time Lucas wouldn’t have minded. Now he wants to jump out of his goddamn skin.

The two had done little more than kiss and cuddle the past week. Respectful of Eliott's recovery, Lucas wanted him to make the first move, to give the signal that being intimate was ok again. When things became too much he snuck off to take care of himself. He made sure to be discreet though he’s pretty sure Mika knew what was up by the end of the week. However that remedy was impossible. Jerking off in a bathroom that wasn't his own feels wrong and doing it next to his sleeping boyfriend feels dirty. So Lucas resigns himself to a long, lonely night and tries to focus on something other than sex with Eliott. 

Which he missed. 

A lot.

Eliott sighs in his sleep. Lucas' stomach plummets and he nearly chucks his phone across the room to keep the light from bothering Eliott. Luckily he doesn't wake up. A rush of relief floods Lucas' body for a fleeting moment before Eliott shifts a little again. His bare thigh slowly inches up Lucas’ own, further weakening Lucas’ self-control, until it comes to rest right where he needs to be touched the most. 

_ Fuck _ . 

Lucas wants Eliott so bad but a needy boyfriend is the last thing Eliott needs right now. So he squeezes his eyes shut and slowly counts backwards from 100, determined more than ever to get a hold of himself. He makes it to 90 when a pair of warm lips brush against his neck. 

“You’re awake.” Eliott's voice is heavy and drowsy and Lucas swears it's the hottest thing he's ever heard. Aside from the time he moaned Lucas' name when he made him come into the common room. The white-hot pleasure from that memory blindsides Lucas.

_ Lallemant, will you fucking  _ stop _? _

"I can't sleep," he mutters lamely. His cheeks are so hot he wonders if Eliott can feel their heat.

“Any particular reason why?” There is a teasing smile in Eliott's voice Lucas does not appreciate. He really wants to clock Eliott right in his gorgeous dimpled chin because of being an insufferable ass. And then kiss him.

“ _ No _ ." 

Eliott makes a noncommittal noise, tracing lazy circles on Lucas’ chest like he doesn't notice his raging hard on pressing against his thigh. Lucas wishes he could enjoy the attention, he really does, but he's on edge. Eliott's playing with fire and Lucas really doesn’t want to fuck up by doing something stupid. Before Lucas can tell him to stop, Eliott's hand drops south. The sound coming out of his mouth is half expletive, half moan that he's too slow to quiet. 

Eliott isn’t shy about touching him. He strokes the length of Lucas’ cock through the thin fabric of his boxers as if gauging for himself just how much Lucas wants him. It’s torture - really fucking pleasurable, yes, but still torture because he’s been waiting for days for this and already he wants to combust. With a little maneuvering Eliott shucks Lucas' boxers down around his cock and wraps his long fingers around him.

“Oh, fuck,” Lucas gasps before his brain shuts off completely.

Eliott sucks his neck as he jerks him off. It's not romantic but Lucas isn’t complaining. He just wants to get off. And he's already halfway there.

"Kiss me," he begs, yanking Eliott up by his hair. He doesn't want to finish without Eliott crowding his space, overwhelming all his senses. He presses his open mouth against Lucas', his tongue slowly darting out pass red lips, and, after a few more quick pumps, Lucas loses it. 

Time ticks by as he gradually comes down from his high.  _ Holy shit, I really needed that _ . All his bones have melted to mush but he’s still able to roll them both over.

“Do you want me to….” 

“Sometimes...,” He sounds oddly lost, vulnerable, like he had the previous Monday Lucas’ apartment. Immediately Lucas is on guard. “Sometimes I can’t get it up because of the medicine.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t....,” Lucas’ brain is scrambling for the right words but what could he say? “You didn’t have to-”

“But I wanted to,” Eliott interrupts firmly, cupping Lucas’ face between his hands before he retreats. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Lucas doesn't know why but he  _ always _ forgets Eliott is equally as wild about him. Maybe it's because he never imagined someone like Eliott would genuinely find him-a short, skinny smartass-desirable. It's a simultaneously bewildering and humbling feeling that leaves him feeling soft on the inside. He kisses Eliott gently.

You still want me even after living with me for the past week?"

"You haven't scared me off yet."

Lucas sighs heavily, resting their foreheads together. They are quiet for a moment, each soaking up the other's warmth.

"You'll be ok, right?" 

"I'll be ok."

He kisses him again again and again-sweet, slow kisses that make time crawl to a stop-and Eliott basks in the attention. Lucas wants nothing more than to pamper Eliott but if he doesn't do something soon he's going to get uncomfortable. He rolls away after a final kiss and strips naked, tossing his boxers to some unknown location, while Eliott reaches for something on the floor.

"Here." 

He gives Lucas a tissue box and settles back down on the bed, dabbing his own hand with a wad of tissues. Lucas cleans up as best he can before they huddle together beneath the blanket again, legs and arms intertwined. Lucas can’t stop himself from kissing the tip of Eliott’s nose.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Eliott’s voice is coy when he returns, “Me too, Lucas. Me too.”


	4. 10h48

The next time Lucas wakes up the bedroom is teeming with bright morning light. He reaches out but he already knows Eliott's nowhere near him and he hates it. His eyes open slowly to see Eliott sitting at the foot of the bed, bobbing his head to the muffled music coming from his bulky headphones. Lucas watches him for as long as he can, inexplicably transfixed by the sight of his boyfriend lost in his own world, until he's too uncomfortable by his full bladder to stay in bed any longer. 

Since he has no clue where his underwear had ended up, he searches for an alternative. On the top of a nearby dresser there is a familiar red shirt and a pair of sweats nicely folded. Bingo. Lucas carefully climbs out of his warm burrow and throws on the clothes. Stealing one last look at his boyfriend, he slips out undetected.

It’s not until he’s finished up and looking into the bathroom mirror that he notices the hickey. He presses his lips together in a humorless smile and studies the purple mark. It doesn't go away when he turns his head from left to right so he pokes it tentatively and it hurts of course.

_ Fucking hell, Eliott. _

There’s no way to hide it either so Lucas just has to deal. He scrubs his teeth with a glob of toothpaste on his finger. Would it be weird if he used Eliott’s toothbrush without asking first? Lucas is clueless. He doesn't know the protocol when it comes to the morning after in someone else’s place but he is certain he's overthinking everything. 

Oscar's head pokes into the hallway when Lucas comes out of the bathroom.His hand automatically shoots up to cover the mark and he hopes it looks like he’s just trying to fix his hair. 

“Morning, Lucas. Do you drink coffee?”

“Yeah, I do." 

“Great. I made some extra. We’ve got croissants, too, if you're hungry.” Oscar doesn’t wait for a reply and disappears back into the kitchen as quick as he appeared.

Was this weird too or do fathers usually share morning coffee with their son’s boyfriend after possibly hearing them fool around the night before? 

If he heard them at all, he's acting pretty chill about it.

Not wanting to be rude, Lucas joins him in the kitchen and quietly fixes himself to a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” he says, grateful milk and sugar were already out on the counter because he can’t stand black coffee. He leans against the counter, holding the warm mug in his hands and breaths in the rich aroma as if the smell alone would shake the cobwebs from his mind. 

“My pleasure,” Oscar returns but he’s looking at his phone and texting quickly. “Is Eliott up?”

“Yeah. He’s working on something.”

Oscar raises his eyes, his fingers pause. He has the kind of expression Lucas assumes men have when they realise they are about to become fathers - a delicate mix of delight and disbelief. “Really? That’s great!”

“What’s great?” Eliott’s standing in the doorway, looking devilishly handsome with his unshaved face and messy wet hair. 

“Seeing my favorite son,” Oscar replies without a missing a beat and Lucas smiles into his drink. “There’s coffee and croissants.”

“Thanks,” he says and heads over to Lucas, kissing him quickly. “Good morning.”

With Oscar busy with his phone once again, Lucas doesn’t feel self conscious when he kisses him back. He smells like soap and toothpaste. “Morning.”

A slow smirk pulls at Eliott’s mouth, his dark eyebrows jumping up quickly. “That hickey’s pretty hot.”

Lucas grinds his elbow into Eliott’s side. “Fuck you.”

“So what are your plans today, boys?” Oscar asks a little too brightly after he shoves his phone definitively into his back pocket. 

Eliott shrugs as he sips his coffee. “I don’t know. Just hang out, maybe?”

Lucas is fine with that. He’s more than ready for a lazy Saturday. Pings start to go off in the kitchen - one right after the other - and Eliott looks at his dad. 

“I think that's you, papa,” he says drily after a moment.

Oscar sighes and takes out his phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Oscar shifts uncomfortably. “They need me to shoot some photos since Andrew couldn’t make it.”

“And?”

“I told them I can't.”

Eliott’s lips press into a thin line as he cocks his head to one side and then the other quickly. He looks like he’s about to throw a tantrum and Lucas thinks it’s fucking adorable. He’ll keep that to himself, he decides, because he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of Eliott’s glare. 

“Papa!”

“What?”

“You said you wouldn’t act weird.”

Lucas suddenly wishes a hole in the floor would just open up and swallow him whole. He looks down at his cup of coffee like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“I’m not acting weird.”

“Just go to the photoshoot, ok? I’m  _ fine _ .”

Lucas gets it now and wraps an arm around Eliott so he can rub the small of his back. 

Oscar looks between the pair of them, sighes, and starts to text. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours,” he tells them. “Will you call me if you guys need anything?"

“Yes. Now will you go? Please?”

They stay in the kitchen, sharing a croissant and drinking their coffee, and say goodbye to Oscar when he leaves with a big, square camera bag slung across his body. When the front door shuts, Eliott sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I hate it when he does that.”

“Does what?” He doesn't think Oscar’s actions warranted that strong of a reaction from Eliott but what does he know? 

“Hover over me like I’m a baby.”

Lucas pulls a face and in the most sickening sweet voice he can make coos, “I thought you were my baby,” just to lighten the mood.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Ok," Eliott says, allowing a tiny smile to develop, "but only for you.”

They laugh at each other because,  _ god, they're being so fucking dumb _ , and share another croissant. When the coffee is all gone, they retreat down the hallway. 

"Do you want to take a shower?" Lucas hadn't thought about it but a shower sounds like heaven on earth. "Go on. I'll bring you a towel."

He’s already standing under the hot jet spray and scrubbing up when Eliott makes a brief appearance to leave a towel on the sink. The soft feeling of domiciliary shakes him a little. He felt it when Eliott stayed with him and now he feels it again and more stones are chipped away from the walls he had carefully constructed around himself. Apparently they weren't as strong as he thought they once were and he's ok with that.

Lucas doesn’t linger. He pats his skin dry and changes back into his clothes, eager to return to Eliott who's resumed his position at the edge of the bed with his sketchbook in his lap. Lucas crawls up besides him and plants a soft kiss just below his ear. He loves the sound of Eliott’s chuckle and the sheepish smile he gives him. 

“You’re so cute,” Lucas whispers. 

Eliott’s smile widens. “You too.”

“I’ll let you get back to your work.”

“You won’t be bored?”

“Nope,” he says as he flips into his back and reaches for the closest sketchbook. How can he be bored with Eliott in the same room? “So your dad’s a professional photographer?”

“Yeah. He does a ton of free-lance stuff especially for tourists.”

“What about your mom?” This is the first time they've talked about Eliott’s parents and Lucas is greedy for even a kernal of information because normal, everyday-Eliott is still a bit of an enigma.

“She’s a real estate agent. What about yours?” 

Lucas expects the question. It would have been so easy to brush the subject under the carpet with a laugh and a joke but Eliott deserves an honest answer. He can't keep his home life a secret forever. “Mom’s an accountant-well she is when she can work-and dad’s a professional asshole.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s the CEO of Assholes Incorporated.”

“Sounds like a shitty job.”

“A shitty job for a shitty father,” Lucas grumbles unhappily. "He's actually a bank manager. Well he was when he lived with us. But now? Who the fuck knows?"

“I’m sorry, Lucas.”

Lucas’ eyes sting so he keeps them diverted. "It's fine." It really isn't but he doesn't want to get Eliott involved too deeply. "As long as he keeps paying my rent I don't have much to complain about I guess."

"You know my parents always wanted another kid. You could move in with us."

Lucas looks at Eliott through his dark lashes and wonders if he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. "So, I'll be your boyfriend but also your adopted brother?" He arches an eyebrow. "That's pretty kinky."

Eliott blushes like there's no tomorrow. "You know what I mean. Just think about it."

Lucas nods to make Eliott happy but doesn't plan to entertain the idea of them living together. He's practically a stranger to Eliott's parents but he knows his offer comes from a good place. His heart is just that big and beautiful. “Ok," he says, "I will."

They share a smile before Eliott turns his attention to drawing in his lap. Lucas slowly leafs through sketchbook after sketchbook, marveling at Eliott’s talent. Some sketches are complete while others were discarded halfway through. He recognizes racoon-Eliott and the sketches of Lucille. He’s a little sad when he thinks of her and wonders how she’s doing. Is she still sad over the loss of Eliott or has she managed to pick up the pieces and forge ahead? She seemed to be doing ok when they met up last Sunday. 

Then there are some sketches which don't make sense to him and some were raw and dark, but Lucas is nevertheless impressed that Eliott was able to be so completely and brutally honest with a pencil and paper. Eventually the somber sketches turn into intricate patterns, minimalistic doodles, and yes, several tiny hedgehogs which bring a smile to his face. 

Lucas ends his journey on a good note and sets the well worn book aside. He lays back down, his eyes heavy and dry from overuse, and tells himself he’ll only close them for a moment. He wakes up to Eliott kissing him.

Lucas throws his arms around his neck, still caught somewhere between sleeping and waking. “Feeling better?”

Eliott breaks away just long enough to murmur, “Much better."

_ Oh, thank god.  _

Talking takes time and time is the last thing they want to waste. They strip naked. Lucas is practically vibrating when their lips meet over and over again, open and inviting. Eliott’s large hands roam everywhere-no place is off limits. He strokes his ass, between his legs, his nipples. Where his hands go, his warm, greedy mouth is quick to follow, and then eventually his tongue. Lucas is caught up and doesn’t stand a chance when Eliott blows him and he lays there panting and dumbstruck because, holy shit, what Eliott’s done to his body over the last twelve hours is enough to stun anyone. 

They switch places. Lucas kisses his way down Eliott's neck and then lower. Eliott gasps beneath him but Lucas doesn’t stop to enjoy the effect he has on his boyfriend. They can be soft and gentle later. He nuzzles the crisp line of hair dusting Eliott's lower belly. He makes sure Eliott is watching him when he slowly slides his tongue along the head of his cock before wrapping his lips around him. The sound Eliott makes should be illegal.

What Lucas lacks in finesse he makes up with enthusiasm. Still it’s not enough. He slips a hand between Eliott’s shaking thighs, massaging his balls before coaxing a finger between his cheeks. The shock shooting through Eliott's body is palpable and Lucas pulls back, finally remembering he can talk. “Is this ok?”

Eliott nods quickly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He's flustered, breathless, and completely and utterly fuckable. "Yes.” 

That’s all the permission he needs. Lucas turns his attention back to his boyfriend's cock and gently presses the tip of his middle finger inside Eliott. Eliott's hand spasms closed in his hair, it hurts but it's worth it. Emboldened, Lucas picks up the pace and is rewarded by a slew of vulgarity rushing out of Eliott’s mouth as he fingers him. Then Eliott tenses, tells him he's about to finish and not to fucking stop, and Lucas steels himself before cum pools inside his mouth. He’ll get rid of it as soon as he can but now he wants nothing more than for Eliott to enjoy himself. 

Lucas pulls back, grabs the nearest piece of cloth - his red shirt no less- and spits into it, trying not to pay too much attention to the taste. He may be gay but that doesn’t mean he enjoys the taste or feel of cum in his mouth. 

“Damn, Lucas,” Eliott pants softly, already reaching for him. “That was… you were great.”

Lucas feels awfully smug as he lays down next to Eliott. “Chalk it up from the years of watching porn." That was actually really vanilla compared to what he’s seen and enjoyed from the screen of his laptop but Eliott doesn’t need to know that. Not yet at least. “I’m just happy you’re feeling better.”

“Me too.”

How they can go from hot and bothered to soft and gentle is enough to give Lucas whiplash yet here they are, snuggling and stroking one another’s cooling skin with their fingertips like they have all the time in the world to enjoy each other’s naked body. There's no yesterday and no tomorrow. There's only now and the two of them sharing a bed.

"I love you more than anything, Lucas."

If dying from happiness is a thing, Lucas thinks he ought to start planning his funeral. A slow smile spreads across his face as he scoots a little closer-always closer but it's never close enough because his body craves to be in Eliott's space-and rubs their noses together which makes Eliott giggle. 

"Me too."

“So have you enjoyed your 1,573 minutes?”

“I'll let you know in a couple of hours, mon amour."

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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